


arcane

by undodgedbullet



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (kind of??????), Choking, Dirty Talk, Dominance, F/M, M/M, Missy i'm so sorry i love you sm, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, katie i doubt you're ever gonna see this but if you do thanks for helping me with the beginning, loki this is for you, no one read this thanks, some Time Lord psychic stuff idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undodgedbullet/pseuds/undodgedbullet
Summary: She knows this is dangerous and she is unsure if it’s because he’s so close to her right now but perhaps she doesn’t want to change. Perhaps she doesn’t want to be good. Perhaps she’s more similar to him than she thought. “I am your Master and you will obey me.”





	arcane

“Which reminds me, a funny thing happened to me once.”

 

She smiles and he frowns. He looks at her, brows furrowing, clearly confused because he doesn’t know what she’s talking about and if something had happened to her then he _would_ know because he’s her and she’s him.

 

“...What?”

 

She’s grabbing the collar of his jacket, pushing him backwards so quickly that he doesn’t even know what’s happening until his back hits a solid surface. He has to admit, she deserves more credit than he’s been giving her.

 

“A very long time ago, a very scary lady threw me against a wall and made me promise to always, _always_ carry a spare dematerialization circuit.” She lets go of him, now leaning against the wall and as she nonchalantly dusts off his jacket. He swallows hard, not exactly knowing how he should be feeling about this, and she either pretends not to notice or genuinely doesn’t notice his reaction, instead continuing on. “I don’t remember much about her now but... she must’ve made quite an impression.”

 

She reaches into her pocket and takes out a dematerialization circuit, holding it up and he taps it, almost smug because the only reason she has this is because she didn’t have it when she was him and got yelled at by herself for it.

 

“You know, you basically have _me_ to thank for this.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

She smiles and he doubts his response to this should be like _this_ but he is sure he’ll never get an opportunity like this again.

 

“By the way,” he begins, because she’s going to know anyway. “Is it wrong that I...”

 

He looks down and she follows his gaze.

 

“Yes.” She looks back up, obviously disapproving. “Very.”

 

He makes a noise of affirmation because that somehow makes it even _better_. He offers her a smile, mischievous and dark, silently telling her what he’s thinking.

 

“That’s never stopped us before.”

 

“No, it never has.”

 

He can’t tell if that means she agrees, and that should alarm him because he should be able to see into her mind perfectly, especially when they’re this close, but his own mind is currently too clouded with his want that it doesn’t even occur to him that it should be worrying. Neither of them says anything for a moment and then he leans in because he has to, he _has_ to know what he — she, he, both of them, he doesn’t even know who’s who anymore — is like.

 

The first thing he notices is it tastes like pure time; ugly and raw and utterly addicting. It’s a vivid reminder that they shouldn’t be doing this and it only spurs him on, causes him to kiss even harder, trying to get as much as he can. It takes her a moment but she kisses him back just as hard,  pulling him closer to her. It feels wrong, it _is_ wrong, and it’s overwhelming in a way that is so _them_.

 

They part momentarily for breath and she presses herself more firmly against him and he shuts his eyes. The closeness is disorienting but he can’t seem to get enough of it.

 

“ _Master_.”

 

The word hangs in the air and after a moment, he opens his eyes again in surprise when he realizes it came from _him_. He never thought he’d ever call anyone else that, and technically he still hasn’t because they’re _both_ the Master, but he feels a surge of power that he’s certain isn’t coming from her. She looks startled at the title, almost uncomfortable, and she quickly tries to fix her expression to be normal again but by the time she does, she knows he knows.

 

“Kiss me,” she murmurs, leaning in again but he can tell she’s only doing it to distract him.

 

“What did he _do_ to you?” His voice is demanding and she looks away, he narrows his eyes as he pushes her away slightly.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I think you do. I think—”

 

“Everything’s about him with you, isn’t it?” He looks appalled but she continues before he can object. “He hasn’t done anything to me. You just can’t deal with me being able to have what you never got with him.”

 

“Which is what?”

 

She smiles.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

“He didn’t do anything to you?” He takes a step towards her, she stays firmly rooted to her spot. “Then _prove it_.”

 

They’re both still for a moment and then she shoves him back against the wall with much more force than she did the first time and her fingers make their way into his hair, pulling unforgivingly as she yanks his head to hers. She kisses him with more vigor than she needs to but neither of them are complaining and her hands make their way to his shoulders where she pushes his jacket off. It falls to the floor and they ignore it, Missy beginning to unbutton the Master’s shirt. They pull away and she smirks at him.

 

“Is that proof enough for you?”

 

“Missy—”

 

“That’s not what you called me before.” She’s only playing his game but she can’t deny the feeling it gives her, watching as he freezes in surprise at his words, knowing that he _wants_ to even if he’d never admit it. He looks like he’s going to object but she _knows_. “Say it.”

 

He’s silent at first, like he’s internally debating with himself, and then he apparently makes his decision because he stubbornly refuses to look away. “Master.”

 

“That’s right.” She places her hands on his shoulders and shoves him to the floor, satisfied when his knees hit the ground and he looks up at her like he’s waiting for what she’s going to do next. A lot has changed since she’s been him; she’s become good, she’s changed, but she allows herself to smile, her lips forming an intimidating smirk at the sight before her. She knows this is dangerous and she is unsure if it’s because he’s so close to her right now but perhaps she doesn’t want to change. Perhaps she doesn’t want to be good. Perhaps she’s more similar to him than she thought. “I am your Master and you will obey me.”

 

She reaches forward to grab his hair with one hand, gathering up her skirt with her other. She pushes his head forwards and he resists at first but she tightens her grasp. She used to be him so she knows exactly what he likes, so she makes sure it hurts.

 

He doesn’t give in but he obliges this, allowing her to direct him to where she wants him. She feels herself radiating, bathing in the control she holds over him. She was right. _She is his Master and he will obey her_.

 

It’s so easy to lose herself among the feeling of his tongue against her, she knows she’s always been good at this but _wow_. She bites her lip to hold back the noises that are building up in her throat, not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect this is having on her. She appreciates the view though; she looks very pretty on her knees if she does say so herself.

 

She finally gives up trying to stifle her sounds of pleasure, allowing herself to be as loud as she likes. They say power corrupts but she finds that is an understatement, relishing in the sight of him beneath her on the floor and working hard to make her feel good just because she told him to. She refuses to close her eyes and while she may not consciously know it, it’s because her mind will wander to a certain other Time Lord and imagine it’s _his_ tongue she’s feeling, and that would not only break the spell but it would break her as well.

 

So she keeps her eyes open, making sure nothing in the moment gets ruined. She doesn’t know if she realizes first or him but she finds she’s almost right there and he doubles his efforts, making her lose sight of everything as she cries their name.

 

She gets ahold of herself again a few seconds later, glancing down to see him looking back up at her with a mixture of smugness and anger.

 

“Does _he_ do that to you?”

 

The mention of the Doctor causes her to hesitate, as if she’s suddenly remembering who she is again. She feels everything come crashing down as she returns to herself, realizing what she’s just done and said and _thought_. She knows he would forgive her if he were to ever find out (really, it wasn’t her fault, she can’t be expected to think clearly and rationally when a power-obsessed version of her is right here with her. She tells herself this but she’s too confused, there’s too much going on inside her head, she doesn’t even know if she believes her excuse herself) but the fact that she even embraced that side of her again scares her. She misses when things were easier, when she could do bad things without feeling any remorse. She wishes he were here right now, to take her in his arms and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he’s preoccupied with trying to fix a mess. The mess that she had a hand in making. The Doctor would tell her the guilt and pain she’s feeling is good, it means she’s making even more progress, but the only reason it’s good is because she deserves it. She deserves to hurt for everything she’s done.

 

“Of course he does.” She gives him an overemphasized wink, trying to push all her thoughts away. She only has one mission right now and it’s to convince him that she’s on his side, not to get lost in her own pity. At least, she thinks she’s not on his side. She can’t remember anymore, everything about this is _wrong_ and their fusing minds are making it more and more difficult for her to know the difference between them. “In fact, he does much more than that. He does everything for me that you want him to do for you. He _worships_ me. Willingly.”

 

She’s exaggerating slightly but it’s not like he needs to know she’s been locked in a vault without her freedom and kept under the Doctor’s watch for a thousand years. Her words have their intended effect on him because he narrows his eyes at her, forcing out, “Does he now?”

 

“He does. Would you like any details?”

 

“Missy—” She raises an eyebrow and he corrects himself. “Master.”

 

She’s back to feeling unnerved by the title so perhaps she’s different than him after all. She reaches down to pull him up so that he’s standing, one of her hands making its way around his throat. She doesn’t put any pressure yet, just letting it rest there.

 

“You wouldn’t _believe_ how pretty he sounds when he begs.” She begins to tighten her grip as she speaks, starting to cut off his air. “He’s always so eager to please and he loves when I hurt him. I think he really does think of me as his Master. And— oh, I’m sorry, are you jealous?”

 

“No.”

 

It’s an obvious lie and she hates this, she hates that she’s taking what she and the Doctor have and using it in a twisted, messed up way, especially after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve done to get to this point. No, she had been wrong before. If the Doctor could see her now, he wouldn’t forgive her. He’d be disgusted.

 

“I think you are.” Even though she hates this, she finds herself unable to stop. She lessens her grasp on his throat and he gasps in air. “Wouldn’t you like to have him always at your mercy? Woukdn’t you like to have him always wanting, more than _anything_ , to do everything you tell him to? Because let me tell you, it is one of the best feelings in the universe.”

 

“Well, congratulations.” His tone is sarcastic and she reaches down to begin unbuttoning his trousers. He doesn’t do anything to stop her and she moves her skirt out of the way, fingers moving quickly so she can just get this over with, knowing that if she waits any longer she’ll either come to her senses or she’ll be so destroyed she won’t ever be able to find herself again.

 

“You can deny it all you want but you’re only lying to yourself. I’ve been you, I know every thought about him you’ve ever had.”

 

She presses their lips together before he can respond and then they connect in every sense of the word.

 

It really should not feel so good, she hates that it feels so good, but she can’t focus on that because he’ll feel it and know she’s not and never has been on his side. It’s not an issue because she’s struggling to keep any coherent thoughts going through her brain and it’s too much, it’s not enough, she doesn’t know the difference between good and bad or wrong and right anymore, it would be so easy to just give in and stop worrying about it all and just do what she’s convinced everyone else she’s going to do. She’s so tempted, especially right now when she can’t tell a single difference between her and the Master. But in everything, in all the confusion and chaos, there the Doctor is. The Doctor, her oldest friend, waiting for her with open arms and an understanding smile. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to get through all this for him.

 

They’re pulled as close to each other as they can get, joined together in every way she doesn’t want to be. They’re circulating something, she’s not sure what but she’d think it was a galaxy if it wasn’t so dark. One of them says their name, maybe both of them do, she doesn’t know, but there’s only one name she’s able to focus on. _Theta_.

**Author's Note:**

> i was using a different writing style than i usually use so i hope this is ok omg anyway thanks for watching have a nice day


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